Hypnotized
by allthingsdecent
Summary: Set in S3: A hypnotist at a hospital function forces House and Cuddy to confront their feelings for each other.


**This silly little fic came from a prompt from my good friend Mandie Cy: What if a hypnotist meddled in House and Cuddy's affairs? Season 3. Just for shits and grins, folks.**

**CBR (Cameron-Bashing Rating): High**

Nothing was going as Cameron had planned.

Earlier in the day, she and House had sat on a panel together at the National Physician's Association conference and it had exceeded her wildest dreams.

While almost all the audience's questions were directed at House, a few times, he had actually lobbed them her way, once even saying "why don't we let my colleague answer this?"

_This is it_, she had thought. _The moment he stops seeing me as a little girl and finally sees me as a peer_.

She had been on high afterward—despite the fact that House had ducked out immediately after the panel, avoiding a swarm of follow-up questions—and couldn't wait to test out their new relationship over dinner.

But now they were all at dinner (had she mentioned that Chase, Cuddy, and Wilson were also at this conference?) and she was relegated to the children's table again, metaphorically speaking. That is to say, she and Chase were on one side of the table and Wilson, House, and Cuddy were on the other, engaged in private conversation. House was barely acknowledging her.

She really didn't understand why Cuddy got to be in his inner sanctum and she didn't.

Cuddy, of course, was the one who had forced him to come.

"Clear your schedule," she had announced, barging in on the differential. "You're leading an NPA panel on diagnostics next weekend in San Antonio."

House had made a face like he was very disappointed.

"I _would_ but there's a Real Housewives of New Jersey marathon this weekend and I already RSVP'd yes to my television set."

"Tape it."

"My DVR is broken."

"Fix it."

"Also…" He stopped the game. "I'm a disaster as a public speaker, I'll embarrass the hospital, and you know it."

"That's why I want you to bring two members of your team. They help to smooth out your rough edges."

"Here's a better idea. Leave the rough edges at home. Go all smooth—and I'm not just talking about Chase's girlish complexion." He turned to Chase: "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll hit puberty any day now."

"Wilson is going. . ." Cuddy said, coaxingly.

"He knows nothing about diagnostics. Except for seeing cancer in every tiny shadow on a scan."

"He's conducting the cancer panel. This is actually a pretty big deal for the hospital."

"How big?" House said, raising his eyebrows, already slipping into negotiating mode.

Cuddy looked at him.

"You know that thing we do where you give me something I want and I give you something in return?"

"It's my favorite game," House replied.

She gave him a somewhat deadly smile.

"This isn't one of those times. This is more like, go to the conference or lose your job."

"That seems less fun somehow."

She folded her arms, defiantly.

"You're serious?" he said.

"As serious as whatever case you're diagnosing right now."

"It's actually chronic flatulence," House said, and Chase laughed.

"So which two fellows are you bringing?" Cuddy said.

"Chase and. . ."

Cameron had done a tiny, silent prayer.

"Cameron."

Cameron's heart swelled. _He wants me! He really wants me!_ Then House turned to Foreman. "It's not a racist thing. I just prefer to bring two doctors with lighter skin."

Foreman shook his head, tolerating House's inappropriateness as ever.

"Good," Cuddy said. "We leave Saturday morning."

"We?" House said, provocatively.

"Oh didn't I mention it?" Cuddy said, in that "I'm sexy and I know it" way that annoyed Cameron to no end. "I'm coming, too."

On the plane ride over, seats were arbitrarily distributed among the five of them and Cameron had sat next to House, much to her delight. She imagined serious, intimate, private conversations, the kind they could never have in the confines of PPTH. Maybe House would even tell her about his childhood, or about his years in medical school. Instead, he put on headphones—she could hear a kind of loud, discordant jazz coming through the speakers—and promptly fell asleep.

And now here they were.

It was true that House was mostly talking to Wilson, but every time he spoke to Cuddy it was to give her shit about something or steal food off her plate, as she slapped his hand. Cameron knew what Cuddy knew and what all women knew—men only teased women that they liked.

The entrees were cleared and dessert—some sort of droopy chocolate mousse cake—was served and they brought out the entertainment.

Every year, famously, the NPA staged some sort of Vegas-style performance at the end of their conference. Last year, it was a magician. The year before that, an Elvis impersonator.

Tonight, they had a hypnotist, the kind who brought unsuspecting people on stage and had them cluck like a chicken every time a particular word was said. The hypnotist's name was Amazing Eric.

The crowd was howling with laughter, as one by one, a series of game doctors—some quite distinguished in their fields—went on stage and submitted to the hypnotic "spells."

"I can't believe they're buying this crap," House said, rolling his eyes.

Cuddy eyed him. "You don't?"

"You do?"

"Actual hypnosis in a clinical setting has been proven to work, there's no reason to think. . ."

"Wait! Stop right there. Hypnosis has NOT been proven. Just because a bunch of morons think they're recovering lost childhood memories, like their brain is some sort of safety deposit box and hypnosis is the key, that doesn't mean that. . ."

"Then explain that!" Cuddy said, pointing to the stage where Dr. Benjamin Fineblatt, CEO of the Houston Medical Center, was on hands and knees, barking like a dog.

"He's just playing along," House said, sneering. "Either that or he has some secret fetish to act like a dog in front of 300 people."

"I'm not saying I definitely believe it," Cuddy sniffed. "I'm just saying that it's possible."

"Put the letters 'i and 'm' in front of the word possible and you'll be right."

"Why must you be so cynical about everything?" Cuddy said.

"Why must you be so gullible?"

"Why must you two keep interrupting my program?" Amazing Eric said.

Both House and Cuddy, who had been focused solely on each other, looked up, in shock.

"Dr. Cuddy here doesn't believe in your work," House said quickly, with a devilish grin.

"I'm not the one!" Cuddy protested. "He is!"

"So you don't believe that hypnosis is real—Dr. Cuddy, is it?" Amazing Eric said.

"No. I was expressing healthy skepticism. _He_ was expressing close-minded disbelief."

"But you're much prettier than he is," Amazing Eric said. "Who wants Dr. Cuddy to come on stage and be the next person hypnotized?"

The crowd cheered loudly.

"I'd really rather not," Cuddy said, mortified.

"Cud-dy! Cud-dy," House began chanting, banging rhythmically on the table.

"Cud-dy! Cud-dy!" the crowd chimed in.

"Looks like they want you," Amazing Eric said.

"I'm going to kill you," Cuddy hissed to House, going up on stage.

"I refuse to bark like a dog," she said once she got up there.

The crowd laughed.

"I promise, hypnosis can't make you do anything you don't want to do. Now tell me why you and your husband are so skeptical about my profession?"

"Who? Dr. House?" Cuddy said, laughing. "He is definitely NOT my husband. I'm his boss."

"My wife is my boss, too," Amazing Eric said—and the crowd laughed again. (They were all pretty well lubricated at this point.) "Are you a fair boss or one of those mean bosses everyone is afraid of?"

"I'm… fair," Cuddy said, uncertainly.

House snorted loudly, eliciting more laughs.

"Okay, have a seat, Dr. Cuddy," Amazing Eric said, gesturing toward a chair on the stage.

She sat down, gingerly, crossing her legs, which most of the men in the room were already staring at.

He encouraged her to close her eyes and think of a happy place ("some place without Dr. House, apparently," he cracked) and listen to the sound of his voice, which was very calm and soothing.

"Just relax," he said softly. "Relax your hands, relax your eyelids, relax your legs, relax your shoulders. . .You're feeling very calm, your whole body feels heavy and drowsy. You're entering a hypnotic state. . ."

Cuddy's posture seemed to sag.

"Dr. Cuddy can you hear me?" he said, finally.

"Yes," Cuddy responded, in a very monotone, unfamiliar voice.

"Good. You're in a very calm, happy, suggestible state. Now, when I clap my hands and say 'wake up' you're going to think that"—he turned toward the audience, conspiratorially— "Dr. House is not your employee but your husband."

The audience tittered its approval.

"You will continue to think he's your husband until you leave the building, at which point, you will go back to being simply his boss and you will have no recollection of your brief, wedded bliss."

The crowd roared. Cameron rolled her eyes. House looked amused.

"Wake up!" Amazing Eric said, clapping his hands.

Cuddy's eyes popped open.

"How do you feel?" he asked her.

"Fine," she said, squinting at him. "What did you make me do?"

"Nothing," Amazing Eric said. "You were great. Wasn't she great everyone?"

The audience applauded. Shrugging, Cuddy got off stage, sat back down next to House.

"What did he make me do?" she asked him.

"Like you don't know," House said.

"You're mean!" she responded.

Then much to everyone's enormous surprise, she climbed on House's lap, put her arms around him.

"How much longer do we have to stay here?" she whispered in his ear.

"Okay Cuddy, very funny. Game's over," House said.

"What game?" she said, nuzzling him a bit.

"Get a room you two!" Amazing Eric said. The crowd laughed. But they soon lost interest, as he had invited his next volunteer up on stage.

"You've proven your point, Cuddy," House said, trying to shift his weight a bit (not so much because she was hurting his leg, but because she smelled really good and the pressure of her ass against his groan was threatening to make him a little hard.)

Cameron glared at them. Why couldn't she have been the one to be hypnotized?

"What point?" Cuddy said.

"I think she's really hypnotized," Wilson said, amazed.

"Looks it," Chase agreed, with a shrug.

"She's faking," House and Cameron said in unison.

"Faking what?" Cuddy said, running her hand through House's hair and grinding a bit in his lap.

_Christ. _

"Dr. Cuddy, can I have a word with you—alone?" House said, lifting Cuddy off of him and practically dragging her toward the bathroom.

Once they got to the hallway between the men's and ladies' rooms, Cuddy giggled.

"Amazing Eric is a dumb name," she said.

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I'm not in any mood to. . . . ." But he was losing focus, because she had begun to kiss him, her tongue gliding in his mouth, her hands on his face.

_My God_. Her body was perfect. Her mouth was perfect. She tasted delicious. She was the world's greatest drug in human form.

"Let's go into the ladies room," she whispered. "I want to have sex with my husband. We can lock the door."

"Cuddy. . .I don't think that. . ."

But she had wrapped her right leg around him and was nibbling on his ear. He was helpless.

So he followed her into the bathroom.

Once inside, she slammed him against a wall, began having her way with him, kissing his neck, unbuttoning his shirt, sliding down his torso.

He unzipped her dress, which half slid off her shoulders, revealing the top of her glorious cleavage. He kissed it, worshipfully.

"Take off your pants," she commanded.

He eagerly unzipped his trousers. They fell to the bathroom floor, with a thud. He wore boxers. He was hard and huge. He reached to pull himself out.

"OH. MY. GOD!" Cuddy squealed loudly, jumping away. "You were going to have sex with me!"

House stared at her, aghast. He was standing there, quite literally with his dick in his hands.

"You were going to have sex with me!" he countered.

He was out of breath, frustrated beyond belief. He suddenly realized that they were not about to have sex.

"I wanted to see how far you would take it! You were about to have sex with a woman under the influence of hypnosis! That's…immoral!"

"I knew you weren't really hypnotized!"

"You totally thought I was," she laughed.

"I don't believe in hypnosis, remember?"

"You believed tonight!" she said. "Oh, you believed."

House pulled up his pants, annoyed, tightened his belt.

"It's like I said before, hypnosis is just an excuse to do what you've ALWAYS WANTED TO DO."

"Oh yeah," she chuckled, staring at his erection, which had finally begun to recede. "_I'm _the one who wants to have sex with you."

"Well, then you wanted to kiss me and rub up against me—play house, so to speak," House grumbled. "I have another body part you can feel free to kiss, by the way."

"Dream on," Cuddy said. "I was just trying to prove a point. And I believe I did."

"That if a woman throws herself at a man, he'll agree to have sex with her? Dr. Kinsey you're not."

She simply smirked.

"Are you coming back to the table, Romeo, or should I tell them that you, uh, made other plans?"

"I'll see you at breakfast," House grumbled, folding his arms.

"Goodnight, hubbie," Cuddy trilled.

She strode back to the table.

"What happened?" Wilson and Chase said.

"I helped House, um, straighten some things out," Cuddy said, with a laugh.

Chase and Wilson exchanged a look.

"No, we didn't have sex," Cuddy said. "So you two can roll your tongues back in your mouths."

Cameron heaved a sigh of relief that she hoped wasn't too noticeable.

"And he's your. . .?" Chase asked.

"Very annoying employee," Cuddy said. "Who needed to be taught a lesson."

Then she peered at them.

"You guys didn't actually believe I was hypnotized, did you?"

Chase looked at the table.

"Nope," he said.

"Definitely not," Wilson agreed, looking at his hands.

"I sensed you had other motivations…" Cameron said—and she left it at that.

#######

House came late to breakfast, particularly unshaven, already surly. He sat next to Wilson, poured himself some coffee.

"You're looking a little rough there, House," Cuddy teased, raising her eyebrows. "Everything okay?"

"Just ducky," he said.

"He's still mad that I tricked him," Cuddy told the table.

House looked up, and also addressed the table:

"What do you guys make of a woman who throws herself at a man and then says it was all to teach him a lesson?"

"Uh," Chase said.

"I happen to think—" Cameron started.

"And what do you think of a man who calls himself a skeptic but throws all skepticism out the window, when it comes to what's in his pants?" Cuddy interrupted.

"And what do you think of a woman who gets off on the power trip of knowing she has men wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger?"

"And what do you think of a man who never admits when he's wrong? Even when all evidence points to the contrary?"

"Uh guys?" Wilson said. "We were all there last night. You can stop speaking in hypotheticals."

House folded his arms.

"Well?" he said.

"Well?" Cuddy said.

"I think what happens in San Antonio stays in San Antonio," Wilson said, diplomatically.

"I certainly hope so," Cameron muttered.

#####

As they left the hotel, dragging their overnight bags behind them through the lobby, they were approached by Dr. Simone Halbert, the conference chair.

"I really enjoyed your discussion of diagnostics, Dr. House," she said. "I found it very illuminating."

"I'm sure it was," House said, with false cheer. "I have no recollection of it myself. I've been popping narcotics like candy this whole conference."

And to prove his point, he pulled a bottle of vicodin out of his pocket and shook two pills in his mouth. Then he grinned in triumph over the appalled look on her face as he limped away.

"Nice job, House," Cuddy hissed. "Now they're never going to invite us back."

"That was the idea," he said.

"Oh, this is going to be a fun trip home," Wilson said.

As fate would have it, the random assignment of seats now ended up with House and Cuddy sitting next to each other on the plane.

"Just perfect," House said.

"I can switch with her?" Cameron offered, helpfully.

"Naaa, as the saying goes, keep your friends close and your Dean of Medicine closer," House said.

"I'm pretty sure that's not the expression," Cuddy said, settling into her seat.

Cameron was sitting next to Chase. He beamed at her.

As for House and Cuddy, they sat in a tense silence, until about 30 minutes into the flight, when Cuddy fell asleep and her head lolled onto his shoulder.

Cameron, taking notice of this, rolled her eyes again.

House nudged Cuddy.

"Hey, your head's on my shoulder," he said, testily.

Cameron smiled to herself.

Cuddy woke up, realized what she had done. "Oh, sorry," she said, docilely. She was too tired to be combative, and the sweetness in her voice softened House's resolve.

"It's okay," he said, patting his shoulder. "Mi shoulder es su shoulder." She fell back asleep.

"Throw yourself at him much?" Cameron muttered, under her breath.

"What?" Chase said.

"Forget it."

Chase flipped through the in-flight magazine and, trying to keep his voice casual, asked: "So Allison, are you a member of the Mile High Club?"

"Eww! Gross!" Cameron said. "It's unsanitary. Are you?"

Chase frowned, pretended to be really interested in an article.

"No…of course not," he said, coughing a bit.

When the flight attendant came around with the drink cart, Cuddy was still asleep. House ordered a scotch for himself and a glass of sauvignon blanc for her. He paid for them both.

She woke up when they served it.

"I ordered you some wine," he said.

She blinked at him.

"Thanks," she said.

"No biggie."

She sat up, took a sip of the wine.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you," she said. "I'm embarrassed. I hope I didn't drool."

"It's okay," he said. "And your drool was very ladylike."

She smiled a bit.

"I'm sorry about last night. I think I took the prank…too far."

"Taking a prank too far...I know nothing about that," he said, smiling back.

"In the spirit of full disclosure…I remembered that you were a very good kisser back at Michigan and I wanted to see if it was still true."

He eyed her.

"And?"

She leaned back in her seat.

"Is there anything you're _not_ good at, House?" she said.

He grinned.

"Well, since we're being totally honest with each other," he said. "I stayed up all night thinking about you. And I mean, all night. You left me a little, um, frustrated."

"Oh," Cuddy said. "I didn't realize we were being _that _honest."

And they looked at each other.

Cuddy took another swig of wine.

"I believe I owe you a kiss," she said.

"We kissed last night," House said.

"Not that kind of kiss," Cuddy said, sneakily.

House almost dropped his scotch.

"I wouldn't say _owe_," he gulped, trying to be chivalrous.

"I would," she said.

And much to his surprise (and elation), she stood up.

"What? _Now?_" he said.

"I have a strange urge to do it now," she said. "It's almost like I'm under some sort of. . . spell."

House popped up, eagerly followed her to the bathroom. They gave a half-hearted look around the plane to make sure no one was watching, then slipped into the bathroom together.

Chase and Cameron, of course, had seen the whole thing.

"Looks like the Mile High Club is about to get a new member," Chase said, grinning.

"Shut up, Chase."

THE END


End file.
